


Sprout

by timmy_cardiac



Series: Flower Garden [3]
Category: Greek and Roman Mythology
Genre: Cliffhanger, Established Relationship, Little bit of angst, M/M, Not a lot tho, this is it lads
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-06
Updated: 2019-04-06
Packaged: 2020-01-05 20:55:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18373919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/timmy_cardiac/pseuds/timmy_cardiac
Summary: Trouble brews in the kingdom, and Hyacinthus is in danger.





	Sprout

**Author's Note:**

> ya boiii look who it is,,, it’s me back with another update

Tip tip tap tap tippity tap tap tip-

"Will you restrain yourself?" Perius barked at his son. 

Cynortus tried to hold back a grin and returned to using his spoon for eating instead of rapping it on the wood table. He caught the gaze of Argalus, who shoved more soup into his mouth to keep from laughing and upsetting the king more. 

The king had made the decision that the rest of the family would start taking their meals together again, as some sort of bonding exercise. Not the best idea, as they were all in a bit of a funk.

Perius had become tense and stressed during the preparation for the child that Clio would soon deliver. His temper was becoming shorter and shorter, though it didn't seem to bother the twins much. They were content to make as much trouble as always. 

Hyacinthus stirred his spoon around his bowl and watched the soup make a small whirlpool. He had spent all day being bored to death by his academic instructors, who had been overjoyed to get a break from teaching the children for once. He had forgotten how boring lessons were. And they were exhausting. 

Polyboea, not at all noticing the tense mood at the table, entertained herself quietly, swaying back and forth in her chair. She truly was living in a world of her own, and couldn't be touched by the solemnity of reality. It was almost enviable. 

The five of them said nothing as they poked at their food, hardly eating. No one wanted to talk, and luckily no one attempted to spark any conversation, Until Perius cleared his throat.

"My children," he said. "Prepare yourselves. Soon we will all be kept awake by the horrible cries of a newborn." 

Polyboea giggled and slowly the rest of them started to laugh with her.   
___________________________________

If Hyacinthus once thought that his return to lessons had been temporary, he was sorely wrong. He was ordered to return to the instructors the next day, and the next. 

They all scurried about him, piling more work and more assignments. More than he had ever had before. He knew why, of course. He was being prepared for his next physical test, his first in a few years. His only wonder was, what was the point of teaching him academics for something that didn't even require intellect? If anything, he should be learning physical and mental discipline.

He didn't hide his feelings about the lessons, but the instructors hardly cared. They were just relieved to get a break from the younger royal children, especially Argalus and Cynortus' antics. 

Truthfully, Hyacinthus had no idea where his siblings were spending their time, but it was likely much more tolerable than this.   
____________________________________

Keres was in charge of making sure the royal children knew all they needed to know about the gods. The class might have been interesting if the instructor herself wasn't so bothersome.

Though her name literally meant 'evil' (as to why her parents chose it, no one knew), Keres was tremendously shy. She barely spoke above a whisper, and her voice was melodic enough to be simultaneously beautiful and obnoxious. And usually you couldn't even tell what she was saying unless you leaned in a few inches away from her mouth. Sometimes people didn't know if she was even speaking Greek. 

Hyacinthus tried not to be annoyed with her whenever he had to guess what she was saying. He could tell she was trying her best, though she seemed intimidated by him. 

Most of what she was teaching him were things he already knew (or what she was probably teaching him, it was hard to tell). Unfortunately, she didn't start with information about the gods, which is the most interesting part to learn. No, she started by teaching Hyacinthus how to properly give burnt offerings, a skill taught to all Spartan children as soon as they could speak. It was absurdly fundamental. 

"At public events, it's a rule that you should burn your offerings in favor of every god. But in private, you may choose which gods you would like to thank." Keres sounded like she was reciting her words. 

She knelt with Hyacinthus in front of a small fire. Nothing like the large bonfires usually used for offerings, but it would do. 

She handed him a small fig to burn. "Technically this isn't as private as it should be, but since I'm your instructor it's acceptable." It was strange to consider Keres an instructor when she was a year younger than Hyacinthus himself. 

Hyacinthus rolled the fig between his fingers and thought about how he would phrase his offering. He didn't want Keres to suspect anything. 

"Lord Apollo, accept my offering." He glanced briefly at Keres, who grinned in support. "Please bless my mother with health and safety as she delivers her child. Um. That's all. Thank you for your continuous grace and blessings." That was embarrassing. He had spoken the last part so fast that he honestly wasn't even sure if he said the right words. 

As awkward as the lesson was, it was worth it when Hyacinthus returned to his chambers to find a small gold plate of ripe figs. He knew exactly who the gift was from.  
_____________________________________________

One of the perks of being a prince was that Hyacinthus could find ways to order people around discreetly. Hyacinthus had insisted that his instructors have an hour's break. It was mainly for himself and the instructors knew that, but of course buttering them up as much as possible helped.

He took a walk outside to avoid running into his father, who would not be pleased about his son skipping lessons. And if his brothers found out, they would most definitely snitch. They couldn't keep their mouths shut even if they tried. 

Hyacinthus came around a corner and was met with the maids, who were hanging up freshly washed laundry to dry. They waved him over to say hello and chat. It wasn't really appropriate for a prince, but he was good friends with the maids. He had spent many hours with them, usually searching for his missing siblings. When the twins were younger, hiding in there palace was one of their favorite games. For everyone else, it was not so fun. 

The maids laughed with him and made small talk, and for once it didn’t feel forced. It was a refreshing change of pace. 

The topic slowly came around to Hyacinthus’ upcoming physical test. He wasn’t really dreading it, but he surely wasn’t looking forward to it, either. These tests were commonplace, an inconvenience that sometimes came up. 

A teen girl, a daughter of one of the maids, was fascinated by the idea of this test. “I’ve never seen one,” she said. “Mother won’t let me go.” She cat a dirty glance at one of the maids wringing out sheets. 

The mother, who apparently had eyes on the back of her head, sighed loudly. “Darling, you won’t want to see this. It’s gruesome. You’d best be grateful that girls aren’t put to the same tests as the boys.” 

The girl rolled her eyes. “No one has even died.” Then she added quietly, “Yet.” 

Hyacinthus had never spoken to her before, but he could tell this girl was awfully brash for her age and status. She reminded him very much of Cynortus. 

“If I may ask, have you met my brother Cynortus?” 

The girl thought. “He’s one of the twins, right? I get them mixed up. Which was is Cynortus? The less annoying one?” 

Her bold words made her mother and a few other maids gasp. But Hyacinthus laughed. “That’s him. I think the two of you would be great friends.” 

“Hmm. We’ll see.” 

The girl’s mother walker over and shooed her daughter away. “Dione, why don’t you stop bothering His Highness and see if anyone in the washroom needs help?” 

Dione pouted but nodded. 

“Cynortus will probably be around back in the amphitheater,” Hyacinthus whispered to her. 

Once her daughter disappeared inside, the maid tried to apologize, but Hyacinthus brushed her off. 

“Dione is lovely. I have a feeling she’s going to go far.” 

The maid thanked him and returned to her chores. 

Hyacinthus went inside as well, and took the secret-ish hallway that connected the workrooms. He almost slammed into Armenia as she was leaving the kitchen. 

She grinned. “Playing matchmaker, I see.” 

“Matchmaker?” 

Armenia motioned to the door Hyacinthus had just came through. “A laundry girl came through here not five minutes ago and told me she had gotten a special blessing from Prince Hyacinthus himself to meet his younger brothers. She might have mentioned the fact that she found them very attractive.” 

Hyacinthus shrugged innocently, a sly smile on his face. “Well, no shame in helping them along, is there?” 

Armenia shook her head. “Have you forgotten that members of the royal blood do not marry their servants? Ever since you met that young man you’ve been acting strange.” 

Hyacinthus’ playful mood vanished. “I’m the heir to the throne. It really shouldn’t matter who Cynortus and Argalus marry. They won’t rule unless I die soon. Which won’t happen.” 

The old cook hesitantly looked around to see if anyone was near. Then she leaned in. “I should warn you, Hyacinthus. Some people think you are not fit to rule. If someone gets it in their head that they can change who the heir is, the will do it.” 

“What?” Hyacinthus scoffed. “You think someone’s going to try to kill me? Why should I be unfit to rule?” 

“There are certain rumors. You know you will be required to marry some noblewoman eventually.” Armenia looked pained, but continued. “The people have already started speculating about your... preferences. And now that you aren’t seeking a wife, they’re more riled up than ever.” 

Hyacinthus felt his face grow hot in his anger. “That’s quite a conclusion to jump to. Let them speculate. They can be upset if they wish. But believe me-I will not be harmed.”

“And how can you say that? You are nothing more than a man, and not even all the guards in Sparta could save you from the sneakiest traitor.” 

He didn’t need all the guards in Sparta. He had the favor of an Olympian. But how could he explain that? 

“There are some things you just can’t understand, Armenia,” Hyacinthus spat, and marched away. 

She didn’t stop him.   
_____________________________________

Apollo kneaded his fingers into the muscles of Hyacinthus’ back. Apparently the prince had been tensing up all week thinking about the test.

It was past midnight and the test was to take place at sunrise, but so far Hyacinthus hadn’t been able to get any rest. He was much more worked up than he realized. Not just about the test, but the conversation he’d had with Armenia. 

“I’ll be waiting back here for you after it’s over. Would you like me to mend your wounds?” 

“I don’t know,” Hyacinthus said, feeling so mixed up. “But you can’t help me during the test, alright?” He turned to look at the god. “Not at all.” 

“It pains me to see you so hurt, but if it’s what you want, I won’t interfere.” 

Hyacinthus thanked him with a long kiss. Somehow, in the midst of his distress, there was so much love. 

“What are you so worried about?” Apollo asked, running his hands over Hyacinthus’ bare skin. 

“Everything,” Hyacinthus admitted with a sigh. 

Apollo pushed him down gently and pulled the sheets over him. “You don’t have enough time or enough room within yourself to worry about everything. Just worry about right now.” 

“If only it were so simple,” Hyacinthus lamented, closing his eyes. 

“It is.”   
_____________________________________

The ropes ties around his wrists were extra tight today. There would definitely be chafing later. 

Hyacinthus felt the stares of the people behind him as they waited for the first light of the sun to rise. He focused on the horizon, controlling his breath to make the pain less. 

He smiled when he saw the burning ray of light push itself into the sky. Though it was not enough to heat the air, Hyacinthus felt the warmth around him intensify for a split second, like a last hug. 

The first few hits were the easiest to take. Hyacinthus had done this enough to predict when the real pain would start. He counted the hits and adjusted his breathing accordingly. 

Instead of the slow ache he was used to, though, suddenly a searing spike traveled down his spine. He gasped and threw his head back. 

The hits stopped, but before he could say he wanted to continue, a string of gasps erupted from the crowd. 

The pain intensified, traveling down his legs and up his arms. He had never had pain this bad before. It was drowning him, taking the air from his lungs. 

What he couldn’t see was that the skin around his open welts was turning a sickly green. 

Clio screamed. Darkness.   
_____________________________________

Perius ordered that the test be ended immediately. Hyacinthus was carried back to his chambers, followed by servants, healers, and the rest of his family. 

Healers examined the prince as Perius paced the room. Clio stood in the corner, her arms around her children. Polyboea was shaking. 

“Servants,” Perius snapped, pointing at two men. “Bring me the scourge used and a pot of water.” They scrambled off to find what the king wanted. 

“Perius,” Clio called, “What are you doing?” 

The king didn’t answer, but instead approached the healers surrounding Hyacinthus. 

“What can you tell?” the king asked gruffly.

“Not much,” one answered, taking the prince’s pulse. “His skin it getting colder.” 

The servants returned in record time. One man offered the scourge to the king, who took it and cast it into the pot. The water began popping and fizzing. 

“Just as I feared,” Perius announced grimly. “The scourge is coated with poison.” 

Clio held her children closer. “Please, Lord Apollo,” she begged. “Save my son.”   
_____________________________________

Hyacinthus woke up surrounded by an ocean of soft white sheets. But they weren't his. The pain hit when he tried to sit up. His head turned foggy and pounded, while his limbs felt immensely sore. This type of soreness wasn't the kind that was felt after a long day of training. This went all the way into his core. 

He flopped back onto the bed and turned his head to see a small pot boiling on a spit in a large fireplace. Apollo crouched next to it, pushing coals around with a metal stick. 

"Apollo," Hyacinthus said, the word coming out as a squeak. 

The god looked up and gave him a warm but strained smile. He walked to the bed and leaned over, stroking Hyacinthus' hair out of his forehead. He kept his hand there as if checking temperature. 

"It hurts," Hyacinthus whispered, his eyes sliding shut. 

"I know," Apollo sighed. “You were severely poisoned.”

Poisoned. Armenia was right. “Someone tried to kill me,” Hyacinthus whimpered. Apollo hushed him. 

The marks left by the scourge were always painful, but they weren't like this. His whole body felt like it was being crushed and pulled at the same time. 

"I'm making you an herbal medicine that should help. You need more rest, though." 

Hyacinthus gasped suddenly and sat up, ignoring the pain as his thoughts raced. "My family," he choked out. "They'll think I've gone missing." 

Apollo sat down and took the prince's hand, but avoided his gaze. "It's alright. They know you're here." 

Hyacinthus' brain moved in slow motion. "You.. you told them? About us?"

"Yes." 

"Oh," Hyacinthus said, then vomited all over the bedsheets.  
____________________________________

It was really okay. Apollo fixed Hyacinthus' accident with a wave of his hand, but the prince wouldn't stop apologizing. 

"For the last time," Apollo said, stirring the contents of the pot. "It's fine." 

Instead of another protest, he heard Hyacinthus sniffling behind him. Apollo whipped around, already dropping everything he was holding to run to his side. He gathered the prince in his arms and held him tightly. 

Hyacinthus cried quietly into Apollo's chest. He wasn't all that sad, but he was so tired of bottling everything up inside him. Like a crack in a dam. 

The tears only lasted for a few minutes, then they were replaced by deep shaking breaths as Hyacinthus tried to control himself. 

“What did they say?” Hyacinthus asked between hiccups.

Apollo rocked him and spoke softly. “They were more concerned about whether you would live. It’s going to be fine.” 

“They must hate me.” 

“They don’t hate you.” 

“I’ve been lying to them this whole time. What if they’re so ashamed of me they cast me out?” Hyacinthus was shaking badly. 

Apollo cupped the prince’s face. “No matter what happens, I’ll stay with you,” he promised.

“Thank you,” Hyacinthus gulped, wiping his face. 

Apollo kissed the top of his head and handed him a small cup of the medicinal brew. “Drink this,” he instructed. 

Hyacinthus really didn’t want to, but he figured he didn’t have much of a choice. He swallowed it quickly. Almost immediately he felt his head clear, his thoughts sharpen. 

“I don’t have to go back right now, do I?” Hyacinthus asked. 

“No, you can stay as long as you need.”

**Author's Note:**

> thanks @my-name-is-apollo on tumblr for providing the offering prayer ur a gem


End file.
